Black Rose
by ProdigyLight
Summary: Upon a faithful encounter with the Empyrean Lord Marchutan in Salintus Desert, this Daeva's life drastically changed for better or worse.
1. The Beginning

Author's notes: Aion belongs to NCSoft. Characters belong to their owners.

* * *

 **So it began,  
we fight a never-ending war,**  
 **forsaken by a deity we call "god"**  
 **spilling the innocent blood  
we can't heal the grief, the sorrow, and loss,  
and yet, we take pride in doing so.  
**


	2. Chapter 1

**Woken up amidst the night** , cold sweat pouring down her pale skin, the crimson eyes shine brightly within the shadows of her room while the Tower's light dimly penetrates through the curtains. Releasing a heavy breath, the lass looks around. Was it just a nightmare? Surely it was, yet it felt so surreal. Perhaps it's her daily exhaustion forcing her mind to play dirty tricks, or perhaps there is something that ought to be remembered. Nevertheless, she sits down on the edge of the bed, feet touching the mat underneath. The deafening silence was interrupted by a ringing sound in her ears. Nights are meant to let anyone's body and mind rest, yet this feels more like a chore than an actual repose.

Standing up, she approaches the window and gently pulls the curtains to one side whilst glancing out at the outside world. It was rather calm, but this area in Oriel is known to be fairly peaceful. Her studio may be small, but she enjoys it for the small price she paid. As a sigh slipped through her lips, the strong heartbeat eventually eased down. Is her life meant to be a continuous struggle? Restless nights with terrifying dreams plaguing her every time? While her eyes stay fixated on the Tower's beauty, there was that benefit of a doubt whether the God himself was alive. She'd question its authenticity and many had strongly criticized her thinking, calling it blasphemy, heresy and other crude words. It's broken anyway, what is there to fight for?

Checking the time, around 3 in the morning, it was quite the right moment for a shower and move to Iluma, perhaps she'd find more answers there. Ever since her Archdaevic Ascension, things have become rather worse for her kind, the Elyos have begun to lose more battles. What if the Asmodians manage to actually overthrow Ariel's throne and take over Elysea? Perhaps there's too much to think at the moment, the hot water pours over her white hair. So many questions yet to answer, and no one can help with any of that. An acquaintance insisted her not to spend too much time thinking during long showers, but this does help clear her mind a little. Eventually, she dresses up in her black dress, brush the shoulder-long hair and move on. Perhaps Viola may give a clue or two regarding the ongoing war, but she doubts that greatly.

"I look like a mess," she comments quietly about her appearance while staring in the mirror. It was true, the exhaustion is already noticeable in the eyes and around it. If there's a chance to flee an Asmodian's grip, she may not make it this time, and it doesn't help her condition is worsening every day. No time to waste. Iluma might be a pretty place to be in, with the shattered Tower of Eternity in the background, its light shooting right into the vast sky. As a child, she'd admire its beauty; as a simple priest, she'd pray every time and ask Aion for proper guidance. This faithful behavior began to fade away with her Daevic Ascension, with her journey, in fact. It felt as if something had been ripped away from her heart that very moment. Is it meant to be like that? Whenever she questioned her fellow friends and strangers, they admitted never to feel like that in the first place, in fact, they felt stronger instead. That simply added more confusing feelings and thoughts than there already were.

Sometimes she feels like a stranger in her own home.

The Elysian pride was gross and disgusting to look at. These people blindly followed anything the Seraphim Lords said, the typical 'fight thy enemies, show Asmodians no mercy,' wasn't pleasant to listen to. In fact, their pride has corrupted them to the point of no forgiveness. While looking at these people may seem relatively normal, during any kind of fight they would not be afraid to spill the blood of the innocent. If God is real, why allow his own kind to fight among each other? Was it not Israphel's fault to propose a false plan of truce between the Balaur and the Daevas? And yet, we're seen as enemies, just as they are to us. How hypocritical of her, to criticize her own kind, her own people. Her mentor often encouraged with positive attitude and words, 'hope is a good thing, never lose it'. Maybe he was right all along, but the sole idea of a meaningless eternal life is rather heartbreaking to know. We all are like puppets, following where our superiors tell us to go, puppets on a string. So, if someone rebels, where do they go?

Last known case of a rebellious Elyos happened a couple years ago, where a Sorcerer admitted having connections with the Lepharists in order to expose the "truth" however, that never came to happen. He was caught and put in prison, and little is known what happened after that. Some say he changed identity, some say he's now exiled somewhere in Balaurea, but nothing is known to this day. What would happen to her if she tried to do the same? This strong urge to know the truth behind this fake mask is stinging her curiosity.

Walking this lone path is a struggle.

As the dawn approaches, with a sigh she walks inside Ariel's Sanctuary and wait for Viola to come. The guards were not the kind type, to let her in right away as if she were the enemy here, but better safe than sorry, right? Understandably, not like protesting would affect their position or mentality, but much ought to be known, much should be told. There she was, in her fine eccentric, royal clothes, sitting down on the throne. Alas, the guards had finally allowed outsiders to enter. If Viola cannot give the answers, then only one more deity remains.

Kaisinel.

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Author's notes: Chapter might be short, doesn't mean there isn't more to come ;)


	3. Chapter 2

**The conversation was long and tedious** , in fact, Viola herself seemed rather on edge with so many questions thrown at her. While the young Daeva is not satisfied with the outcome, perhaps it is time to meet Kaisinel in his dimension, surely he must have some sort of answers. He was there when the war happened, he was there when the Tower shattered and broke the world into two halves. Viola's harsh words echoed through over and over, it just brought more frustration than satisfaction. 'Should you really bother yourself with such unimportant topic when we're attempting to fend off the Asmodian Archons?' It kind of stung in her chest, but she knew there was nothing more to talk about.

During an exploration in Cygnea, it was an honor to meet the Empyrean Lord Kaisinel in person. He projected a calm aura and a kind attitude, but he did give a sense of discipline. It's the only deity she managed to meet and talk about, and although their little talk was rather short last time, perhaps there will be more luck on her side. Beritra disappeared off somewhere in Atreia and can't be found, some say he still resides in Drakenspire Depths, but nothing's that certain, people have reported seeing his shadow over the northern part of the region now and then, but it's been a while as well. Perhaps he's gone for now, or simply planning to strike Atreia with another plan. She cannot lie, but there's a sense of pity for the Balaur Lords. Created just to protect the humans of this world, created by a superior deity we call god. It's a miserable thought, created for one sole purpose when there's always so much to see and discover. One should take fate into their own hands, it may turn out to be a failure, or maybe not.

The frustration is overwhelming. Sitting down on the nearest bench, the lass brushes her hair and gives out a heavy sigh. It's early in the morning yet she wishes it'd be night already. An attempt to recover some of the lost sleep would do her quite well. Of course, she could go now and take a nap, but maybe someone may need her assistance – oh, she just realized not many really require her help these days. Most of the Daevas here turned out quite independent of others and it seems it's a race to be the best one around. That's quite pitiful, surely she cannot be the only victim of that, right? Nevertheless, there's some time to waste and yet nothing to do. Getting lost too much in her thoughts wasn't really a healthy thing either.

Quite a fine day to rest and relax, perhaps find multiple solutions to the issues she's been having when her focus was disrupted with a loud noise of swords clashing not too far from her current position. One would think it's just another duel until she realizes that one of them was an Asmodian intruder. Boy, this should be interesting to watch. It didn't take too long for everyone to jump the bandwagon to fend off the enemy, while she just sits back and observes. Quite entertaining, in fact, she recognized him. Another fallen warrior, but certainly not dead. Even dying is a chore these days. The guards ran like crazy, revealing their sharp blades to prevent the intruder from escaping. She heard their Asmodian language, it may sound gibberish to some, yet she's able to understand it to the fullest. After all, spending hours and hours in the libraries eventually paid off. That's her greatest virtue that many have come to appreciate. It does help she's able to speak back, maybe stumbling a bit, but it works.

Standing up and fixing the dress a little, the young woman approaches the intruder who was repeating the same words over and over. A pale, bluish skin; short silver hair with seemingly crimson glowing eyes, sophisticated garments with powerful wings to shield his body; while he may have seemed quite young, there is no doubt appearances are deceiving, even to the oldest Daeva alive. She has an odd sense of familiarity with the stranger. A sudden bump on the arm made her look towards the culprit, just to see a young little girl with long, white pigtails. So long, they were almost as big as her. Round, big eyes, cute and puffy cheeks; a lovely outfit perfectly fit for the current warm season too. Everyone is simply standing there as if this is some sort of freak show.

"Typical bad guy!" The girl exclaims. Everyone's attention shifts to her high-pitched voice, a dull attempt to receive some attention from the Elyos around. However, the Asmodian replies in his own language, and everything is fairly understandable.

"I'm sure you will enjoy our dark little prison, boy." One of the guards commented as he grasps tightly on the intruder's arm and carries him off. It could be a good chance to have a little chat and question his reason why he had bothered himself to invade the Sanctuary. Many do that, yes, but at the same time, many manage to escape through the rifts spawning at random points during the day. This guy decided to stay. She wonders whether there's another group somewhere waiting to strike at the right moment. No doubt that anything is possible.

Later that evening it was a good opportunity to visit the Asmodian trapped in the crude jail. Walking down the steps, the guards welcome her in but warn her not to do anything that would break the rules. As if she cared at all, there are more interesting things now. Approaching the oxidized bars, there is little she could see. The dim light was shining through the small window to her right, and the man merely standing, leaning against the cold, dirty wall of the room. The stench of mud and waste was suffocating, and the air is barely breathable. While there is a long silence floating in the air between the two of them, she became a bit nervous, knowing speaking the Asmodian language could set off some alarming behavior from the Elysian guards. Nonetheless, this chance had to be taken.

" _I've come to talk with you._ " She begins. Her accent may be a bit off, wondering if the stranger would be able to understand her. It seems he did because he approached the bars and looks straight into her eyes. Now she could see, what was seen out there during the day couldn't be compared to his current visage. A young Daeva just like anybody else, again, how come we're all seen as enemies? The man tilts his head, though he is not as surprised as she expected him to be. " _Just a few questions, and then I'll leave you alone._ " She hears the guards shift uncomfortably in their standing position, one of them looking over his shoulder suspiciously. Clearly, it's a recognizable Asmodian language, but she's not aware of many Elyos knowing it, let alone being able to speak it.

" _Quite fascinating to see you Elyos speak my language._ " The man replies with a smile. " _It's a bit of a shame that I got myself in trouble here. I hope they won't execute me for trespassing._ "

The woman smiles, shaking her head in disagreement. " _Definitely not. Besides, weren't you with a group originally? Unless you decided to sacrifice yourself here, I don't see why would you waste your time in the first place._ "

" _Eh, can't say I was. I saw someone follow me up here, but one of your Spiritmasters trapped me in and yeah, there was no escape anymore._ " He shrugs off his shoulders.

To her surprise, this stranger is more kind-hearted than anyone else she's seen around this awful place lately. Everyone's so prideful and always in such a hurry, some never having any time for themselves. Has the light of Aion consumed their selflessness? " _I'm not sure when they will release you,_ " she continues, " _but hopefully by tomorrow morning. Of course, they will attempt to find anything plausible reason to prove you're guilty. I could try to get you out if that happens, but I can't interfere with this type of law._ "

" _Can't say I really trust you on that. You're an Elyos after all._ " He did have a clear point there, they're still enemies because of the ongoing war. With a small frown, the woman isn't pleased with that answer. Her weak attempts to form a bond with a stranger had just failed tremendously, but this should be understandable from his point of view. Perhaps she took a step too far in this regard.

" _I understand that._ " She is certain there is another question floating in her mind, but couldn't remember it anymore. " _I suppose I'll leave you be for now. Wishing you best of luck in here._ "

She sees him wave a goodbye at her. Didn't take long for the guards to step in. "Visit time is over, miss." The woman nods, leaving the prison in silence, however, her path is blocked by a superior leader with two guards standing behind him. Seems she was correct regarding her suspicions, they informed the General and probably Viola all about this the moment they heard her speak Asmodian. Could mean a lot of trouble.

"We've been informed you are perhaps planning a conspiracy against the Hymn of Aion legion, posing a threat to whole Elysea by speaking with that scum." Harsh words for a General, but the woman disagrees.

"No, I was simply asking him a question why did he come to the Sanctuary and has not escaped while he had the chance. Surely there is nothing wrong with questioning the enemy?" The man did not appear to be pleased with her answer, yet there's no proper reason to press charges against her. Many Elyos do the same thing, why should it be different with her? Her rank? That's nonsense. "Nevertheless, I hope you and everyone else understand that my talent for knowing the Asmodian language could prove useful to you. Denying that would mean denying the gift from Aion."

Staring at each other, the General sends the guards away. He is a middle-aged man, but age can't be counted in Atreia anymore, not since the Cataclysm at least. He has a heavy armor made of heavy metal, white colored with silver and gold garments. There's an ugly scar crossing his left eye, probably from a battle. She is getting annoyed really quick, it should be no one's business who she visits and why. "I hope you do realize you should not visit the prison without any proper permission," He grunts, "and let's hope you will remember this next time, miss…?"

"Kubei." She replies, smiling.

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Author's notes: The story revolves around the main character mostly. I asked people to join to fill in the empty holes, and I thought it'd be nice to give people a chance to appear in it. For some reason, chapter 3 felt quite difficult to write therefore I don't know how long will it take me to write the next one. Please understand that I can't throw everyone in from the start.

This is a fanfic just for fun. It's not meant to be anything super professional. The game's Lore plays a big part in this story, especially the Empyrean Lords.

If there's more info you want to provide about your character, please message me on Facebook, or send me mail on my character Kubei (Elyos-IS) and Vahirrai (Asmo-IS). Those two are my main characters.


	4. Chapter 3

**Unfortunately, her day had a bad start already.** After a personal, in-depth meeting with the General, she is issued a warning from Viola to not approach the enemy, regardless if they're in prison or not, as they pose a continuous threat to Elysea. It's a slip with a big 'WARNING' text at the top of the paper. This is becoming quite ridiculous, the prisoner posed no threat whatsoever, was kind and open to conversation. Kubei starts to believe there might be something going on behind the scenes, something not everyone sees or bothers to check out. It's odd, she's aware they're at war and maybe someone could be a spy, but Kubei refuses to believe that. A trip to Sanctum's Library of the Sages could perhaps shed a light on the current topic. There could be a book or two she skipped years ago, and yet, these odd feelings just won't go away. Ever since that incident, things have changed. This odd phenomenon can't be described with words either, one ought to feel it to understand her frustration and exhaustion. A fight with her own self, so to speak, endlessly searching for the correct answers for her life.

Releasing a gentle sigh, she sits down on the nearest bench and gazes up at the Tower in the distance. She has yet to have a trip to Norsvold through the rifts and see how does it look there. Iluma might be pretty around the Sanctuary, yet the outskirts and the bases are surrounded by overgrown plants and swarming with enemies. Nothing too pretty, so to speak. So far, the Zephyr Vale is her favorite place to spend some free time as roaming with the Aether allows her to fly wherever she desires, with the wind softly carrying the body of the woman. Gliding is always fun but can be easily interrupted by the opposite faction. The island that's hovering in the Vale has always kept her interested. The Aether is so powerful in that specific area, how can that be, when the broken Tower lies amidst the center of Iluma? Perhaps the broken fragments may have something to do with it. The focal point of that island are the enormous statues build by her ancestors before the Cataclysm happened. They perfectly represent the lost beauty at that time, their strength and love for Atreia before all this came to be. The thought lingered, how would Atreia look now if the war had never begun in the first place? Would it spawn unnecessary beliefs, philosophical thoughts, and religions about Aion's existence and his being? Everyone speaks highly of the God, blessing each other and yet, his sole presence is the Tower itself. How? Why form a Tower, fill your presence with it and know it could get destroyed by an outside force?

Is then Aion not a God as everyone thinks?

Now she's over-thinking again. It's possible Aion did all this on purpose. Sadistic needs? Who knows. It could be that, or he died the day Fregion destroyed the Tower. All but mindless theories, time-wasting. They give no answers nor bring any kind of satisfaction.

Nevertheless, a trip to Sanctum had to be done before the next dawn. While she cannot shake those odd feelings off of her, the library works like a temporary sanctuary for her crushed soul and exhausted mind. Reading books about this ancient planet has always held her focus, like a child excited to see new gifts given to them on their birthdays. Always so pure and sweet to see, that's why she enjoys reading nonstop. The only thing she wishes is to read books that are a bit more unbiased, the Elyos portray themselves are eternal victors and conquerors, just and righteous. Kubei wishes that could be true, after all, all those heroic fantasies she spent dreaming about when living in Poeta was just enough. A simple priest aiding those in need, new travelers here and there, it was quite a blast to travel to Verteron in the Airship. This helped improve her abilities in this area and thus becoming a Cleric. It's natural to struggle yet everyone expect some sort of perfection these days. Why? It wasn't like this before, so what changed?

Her presence at the library is welcomed by many scholars, appreciating the silence and concentration whilst reading. They know her, she knows them. The outside noise is silenced by dozens of bookshelves holding ancients texts and piles of books, both old and new, some are fictitious, some religious, and countless of those containing philosophical thoughts as well as questions about the existence of the world they're living in. All this beauty has been preserved for thousands of years, immaculate yet dusty if not taken care of for a long time. Spending hours at this library, while pleasant and relaxing, can weary her mind and eyes certainly quick. In an attempt to keep herself alert and awake, she sets the books aside and leans against her left arm, a gentle rest against the palm of her hand. Her rest has been abruptly interrupted by a young girl calling out her name. Attention shifting, Kubei notices it's one of her friends waving and smiling. Dark hair, long, perhaps not as much, but reaching the shoulders, slightly puffy cheeks, and round-like glasses. She waves back and got up from her seat, moving to the exit so as to not disturb the folks in here.

"What are you doing here? I thought you left Balaurea two years ago." Kubei asks, a smile forming on her lips. It was fantastic to see her old friends around here again. Unfortunately, some of those friends never ascended into Daevas at all, and this here is one of them. Her friend instead decided to become a painter and explore the outer shell of Atreia, in search of the hidden beauty, places like Katalam and Danaria which have sunk into the Abyssal oceans. Quite a shame Kubei never had a chance to visit those places during her youth, but Cygnea and Enshar are rather majestic, surrounded by oceanic beauty and gave off a warm sensation upon touch.

"What do you mean by why? I'm here to visit you of course!" The lass gives off a happy laugh and embraces Kubei's arm. "How about we go down the boulevard and have a cup of tea? I've brought biscuits!"

The Daeva nods, smiling. It felt so surreal, though, to meet her friend again after two years, just prancing through the streets of Sanctum into the Library. Ah, those times they'd spent together. Their favorite activity was to spend time in Sanctum plaza and observe the different attractions that would visit Elysea here and there. Joyous moments and cherished for life. However, Kubei's expression shifted, her brows narrowing as her visage shows sadness rather than joy. "Why are you sad?" The lass asks, and yet, there's no response. With this odd heavy sensation in her chest, Kubei may not show a clear change in expression, and yet those tears are as real as they could ever be. Realization struck like lightning, and with that emotion came grief, sorrow, and desolation. Wretched be this world and the Drakan for taking this innocent friend away from her embrace. Her voice echoed, the laughter she'd never hear again, the artistic paintings, the time spent together – everything was stolen, like a thief during the night. Like the sand on the beach carried away by the waves, she was carried away by the clement wind into the vast horizon. Lost, but not forgotten, a memory lingering within her deepest consciousness, not even dreaming became pleasant after that event. The voice echoed, yet the sweet laughter was gone.

 **I lied.**

Lips quivering, the pain had become numb. The tears blurr the vision out, and yet, Kubei finds herself in the same place as before. The Library, with her head on the table as the tears, poured over the papers. A dream? The Daeva's head pounds in pain, and with her right hand, she smears the tears all over her pale face. Kubei regains her composure and clears the mess out before anybody else could find out and start asking questions. Surely getting questioned is not what she desires at the moment, as this dream has left a strong impact on her current state of mind. When pain becomes so numb, one cannot think of anything else but themselves, a sore, weak and pathetic attempt to ease it down, or at least to conceal what's not there. A masquerade.

Time must've flown out the window the moment Kubei allowed her weary mind to rest. The thoughts forced themselves to be focused on the recurring dream she's been having. Events like these never allow this Daeva's broken heart to recover. Ever since her friend had left to explore Balaurea, the changes were outstanding, yet at the same time worrisome. It was a different person like possessed by an evil entity, speaking highly of things giving them much importance, praising Balaurea and the Drakan for the everlasting knowledge and never-ending wisdom presented right at her feet. She never hesitated, but consequences were quick to come, and both had to part ways. She's gotten all the blame.

Mistakes cannot be fixed or erased, one can simply attempt to learn from them.

Right?

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Author's notes: M: 5:4; P: 19:5; Ps: 41:9


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes** : Before we dig into the next chapter, I wanted to thank **seinka** for a nice critique and review that helped me understand some of the issues I'm having. I decided to fix some grammatical errors and typos, but nothing that would affect the story in any way. Still not perfect, but we're getting there.

Another thing is, I have decided to change the rating for this story. I know it's currently very tame and all that, but it will become M in future chapters. Some of you Israphel-server people are probably thinking "where in tarnation is my character in this" but I'm asking ya'll to be patient xD. You can get yourself involved by suggesting me ideas and whatnot by messaging me on FB.

Thank you all for the great support. Really appreciate it!

* * *

 **He sits there, legs crossed and chin resting on his hands.** It was a sign of great concern. Rumors have spread fast, that Asmodian invasion seems to be inevitable. The Elyos are outnumbered by a far greater force and refuse to fight back, seeing how little strength they have to stand back up after just a single blow. Is the training he's providing not enough? He built the academy for that sole purpose, and while there are fellow Elyos who are taking it to their advantage, Kaisinel is not pleased, not the slightest. Veille, one of his faithful servants, walks through the spacious room, down the red carpet towards the throne where the Empyrean Lord is seated. Along with her side, two guards accompany her. Kneeling down, bowing and exclaiming a phrase which is but a simple praise to his name and existence. The Lord admired such commitment, and anyone else is always greatly rewarded, Veille included.

"My Lord." She starts off, maintaining her stance for a short while, eventually raising back up to her feet. "We have received news from Iluma that our prisoner has escaped. We are yet to investigate how and its cause."

Kaisinel wasn't sure how that could happen to begin with. Yes, he's aware multiple people were involved, but there's much more than this. "The prisoner is not as important as many believe." The Lord pauses, brushing the tip of his chin with the index finger, his azure eyes gazing off somewhere else, losing himself within his own thoughts. The probability of the prisoner fleeing on his own has little chance, foul play was definitely involved. "Nevertheless, there's nothing we can do as for now. The Asmodian is just a pawn; a simple distraction sent by the enemy to keep us off of our guards."

He's not the optimist among the Seraphim Lords and that's easily perceived. In the early days, Lumiel insulted his approach towards the truce proposal, calling him naive and ignorant. That's ridiculous. His pride does not shatter that easily, and he's proud of using his knowledge to help those in need. Why, the Elyos do appreciate it. Not that hard to miss.

No matter, he will one day have his revenge.

Then, the Lord himself stands up from his adored throne and walks down the few steps, soon meeting with Veille up close. Reaching into his pocket, Kaisinel pulls out a small envelope "Take this letter to Viola in Iluma. She will know what to do." Veille nodded, taking a soft hold on the envelope before pacing out from the room along with the guards, leaving him alone.

Kaisinel motions with his hand to the rest of guards and orders them to move out. He's in much need for some solitude and peace. There he is, alone. The silence becomes deafening rather quickly, the buzzing sound soon becoming an annoyance in his ears. He groans a little, waving a hand in dismissal. He's an Empyrean Lord; these kind of shabby annoyances shouldn't even be part of his everyday life. Those things are meant for the Daevas and the humans instead.

Lost in his thoughts, his ears capture the heavy doors closing. It's very difficult to lead an entire army of Elyos into a false sense of victory. They've been losing the war for the past year now, maybe more. The siege wars are nearly impossible to defend. No one wants to fight, and fear has sprawled all across the entire nation of Elysea. Perhaps it's time for yet another tactic, but what are the chances that it'll work? Lady Ariel has not been very supportive either, however, he's fairly aware she's been always the gullible one. In all honesty, it's amazing. His eyes stay fixated on the doors for a short while before turning around. Kaisinel is taken aback to see a figure standing right ahead of him, merely few inches away. As eyes quickly widen in horror, he swiftly takes a step or two back, his hand reaching to his chest. "We meet again, Kaisinel." The voice speaks, eyes piercing through under the blackness of the hood. The overall garment and attire is rather dull, having a grim black color and a gray yet thin scarf around the neck. It takes the Lord a couple of seconds to settle down, finally discerning the figure underneath.

Gnashing his teeth a little, Kaisinel is not quite content in having an uninvited guest. "Who dared to invite a filth such as you?" He scoffs, the Lord walks past the unknown figure back to his throne yet he is immediately stopped when the visitor takes a harsh grip on the Lord's arm, yanking him back with fierce strength. This forces out a small yelp of pain from the man. He quickly protests, eyes narrowing down into a sharp glare. "How **dare** you to touch me. Have you forgotten your manners?"

The stranger, however, merely lets out a soft chuckle in response, applying harsher pressure on the arm. Kaisinel lets out a painful moan, attempting to pull his arm back, but that man releases his hand from the grip soon after. "Manners are a thing of the weak, Kaisinel. Perhaps you should pay more attention to humans now and then, rather than keeping your focus on the Daevas. They're no different, I can promise you that." Damn, that actually did hurt a little. He shrugs. The figure then approaches a nearby round table, quite small in size, that's been placed not too far from the steps leading to the throne, on it stood a bottle of water and few glass cups. He doesn't hesitate to serve himself.

Perhaps ordering the guards to leave him be for a while wasn't the brightest idea. This idiot is conspiring something again.

Kaisinel scoffs instead, rubbing his arm. The sense of previous pressure has left a certain mark. He sits down once again on the throne, eyes fixed on his new visitor. There's a long pause between the two before the Lord speaks again. "I have zero interest in hearing your manipulative words. It won't work on me." He pauses, but the visitor places the glass cup back on the table, approaching quickly, walking up the steps. He leans in closer towards the other, the eyes beaming a vivid blue color, which was sheer dazzling and luminous despite the brightened chamber both were in. Kaisinel feels a bit uncomfortable, his heart beating at a faster pace than before, "and if you're attempting to intimidate me, you're doing a poor job at it."

"Spare me the jokes, funny man." The hooded man responds with a hiss, placing a hand on each chair arm whilst inclining himself even closer. Their eyes were inches away, Kaisinel could feel the other's warm breath on the bridge of his nose. In a state of shock and disquiet, he found himself unsure how to react or what to say. Never had someone tempted their way up here and challenge the Lord in a fashion like this. One thing can't be forgotten, they both know each other far too well. Has the Cataclysm really shred away what's left of an idea they call a relationship? He's a traitor, always will be. "You cannot play the good guy when you've been playing the bad guy all along." The man continues.

Kaisinel blinks. What was that supposed to mean? "Preposterous." He protests.

"Is that so? Your logic is absurd." The stranger backs away, scoffing as he does so. "You claim I am manipulative, and yet it is you who is using your powers to fool the world you're living in. That's utterly pathetic." There was a long pause, the man's smirk could be seen under the masquerade. "Your people are dying and yet here you are. Quite the special snowflake, aren't you?"

"Don't belittle my people because you were once part of us, you fool." The Lord retorts, frustration arising quick. Not keen on dealing with those kind of emotions, it could make just anybody sick. Yes, he felt rather awful already, a mix of anger along with anguish, and it becomes a challenge to keep his composure. He can't allow this imbecile to enthrall or beguile him, that would make Lumiel's past statements true. "Have you come all this way to tell me just this? Rest assured, you have wasted your time doing so."

"Oh, please, Kaisie," the man smirks upon hearing this blatant lie, "you can lie to these weaklings as much as you please, but you know what? You will never be able to lie to yourself, you may have gifted powers from Aion but they're useless if he's not around. You have become his toy to play with."

" _ **Enough!**_ " Kaisinel rises up quickly from his seat, waving an arm in denial. He was never quick to anger, and yet this man is able to ignite those feelings in a matter of seconds. "Don't even dare to call me that! I refuse to listen to this ridiculous mockery of a man that has betrayed both Aion and his people."

"Are you accusing me of treason?" The hooded man asks, gritting his teeth shortly after. "Remember it was you who decided to stay back and not involve yourself when it all happened. I was there, I watched you run away, I saw how you _abandoned_ the pleading Daevas in order to seek shelter for yourself. Their blood is on your hands too. You ran away, Kaisinel," he pauses for a second, "I suppose Ariel is just too kind, even for herself."

Those words hit hard into his pride. Kaisinel frowns a little, in awe, unable to give any response as he stares back. What he says it's true, but never would he dare to admit such treachery to begin win. No one can know. "Y-You..." He trails off, stuttering his words out. "Get out. Now."

Scoffing, the visitor smirks underneath the shaded hood. Seems he's done for today, Kaisinel certainly isn't going to give him the information necessary. Nonetheless, tomorrow is another day to pester this fool. "Oh, certainly, my Lord." The stranger bows, but it's a cheap provocation attempt. An odd mist rose from beneath his feet, a white mass which engulfed his body. "Don't get too comfortable, though, I'll be back very soon." The last thing the Lord sees are those icy blue eyes, glaring down at him.

His heart is racing, breathing becomes complex. How? He's not scared, this idiot must've done something to make this happen. Are his words true? Nonsense. Traitors can never be trusted. Kaisinel cannot show anyone his current condition, it would certainly discourage the guards if they'd see him like this. Calm demeanor, that's all he needs right now. Those kind of risks cannot be taken, but this man… He was infuriated, frustrated, he dared to challenge his knowledge in a short span of time, and to insult Aion like this. This should be punishable.

Left alone in this enormous room, things have seemed to turn for the better, at least for now. Time felt frozen as he continued to analyze his encounter with none other than Israphel himself. He changed so much, so hungry for power, so thirsty to just devour all of this and create something new. Siel's relics are nowhere to be found. Kaisinel doubts they're destroyed for Aion's sake, maybe God himself keeps them hidden away, somewhere safe, somewhere where Israphel will not be able to place his hands on. So odd they were once considered the closest of friends before even the war with the Balaur took place.

Looking further into his memories, he can remember now clearly how scared the other was, he came up with this plan alone during the night. Kaisinel was first to hear it out and agreed that it could work. A beacon of hope, a possibility for a better future that crushed down on itself. The Tower got shredded to pieces, almost extirpated due to their ignorance. Kaisinel can agree on one thing, though, Azphel was right. Always was. It was just a terrible idea.

Siel died. Israphel ran away.

What a damn coward.

The guards come back in, but not alone; a woman saunters right behind. The first thing he notices are the familiar blurry red eyes, pale skin and soft snowy-like hair reaching her shoulders. Her expression is stern, but he knows that this woman has been anguished for weeks now. One of the guards speaks, however, Kaisinel's mind is elsewhere. He can't exactly recognize the words as his mind is still fazed from the previous encounter.

"My Lord." The female voice speaks, his disorientation finally fading away. The lady bows down in respect and he smiles in return, ordering the guards to return to their posts. "I've come to seek your guidance."

"Rise, Kubei," and so she did. Their eyes meet, she feeling quite excited she finally manages to come here after so long. The wait was dreary, but now maybe she can ask and find the answers necessary. Her soul is weary and tired. It's an obsession, an addiction. "You seem so eager. What's troubling you?"

Kubei stares intently into his eyes. There's something quite fascinating in his overall appearance. "I need answers to some questions." She answers, frowning a little once she's come to a realization that she doesn't really know anymore what to ask him about. Should she then attempt to ask the same thing during her conversation with Viola? Kubei's frozen in place.

Kaisinel blinks, motioning his hand a little in a welcoming manner. "Go ahead."

She's trying hard, so hard to let these words out, but nothing, a mere soft choking sound escapes instead. Kaisinel seems unfazed. Perhaps the guards are the reason behind her uncomfortable behavior.

The Lord stares, though shows no reaction whatsoever. "There's much to do today. I suggest you hurry."

Kubei blinks and nods right after. "My apologies," she trails off, clearing her throat a little. Finally, the woman manages to formulate a question, hoping it's easy enough to answer. She feels a burning sensation in her throat, anticipating the future outcome of this conversation. She cannot speak to anyone calmly without breaking down into tears. Why, just why is this so difficult for her? "The war, it never changes. How long are we going to keep on fighting?"

He finds that question reasonably easy. Kaisinel rubs his chin with his index finger out of habit. "I can't really tell. The battle has been dragging on for many years, and perhaps more to come."

"Why? The battle is already over, isn't it?"

He blinks. "Oh? What do mean by that?"

She pauses, feeling a bit anxious. He's definitely not going to like her answer whatsoever. "The Tower is destroyed, isn't it?" She sees Kaisinel nod in return, thus Kubei continues after a short pause. "It's shattered. It means Aion is dead and we're fighting over his dead corpse."

Suddenly there's a loud gasp between the guards and the Lord himself. Astonished, he wasn't exactly sure what to say. What kind of blasphemous statement is that? How could anyone even dare to speak to lowly of their Creator? Kaisinel sees the guards prepare the weapons, though that's rather unnecessary. It is but a simple conversation, and if she needs answers, he must provide them even if it collides with his own beliefs. The man orders the guards to leave the vast room right away, perhaps for her own safety as not everyone is so open-minded. The guards leave albeit hesitant before obeying the orders.

They are now alone.

She could sense the tension, the uneasiness looming over her shoulder like a shadow. A sickening feeling. Perhaps she went too far, what will happen now? Will Kaisinel order her to shut up and leave like Viola did? That would be quite disappointing.

"Are you attempting to deceive yourself, Kubei?" The man asks, thoughtful. Never had he seen someone before ask such a vile thing. "Or has someone spewed these lies into your head and you're warmly accepting it into your life?"

"I am most certain I thought of this all by myself." She frowns, her voice cracks a little. Those questions started upon her encounter with someone in Morheim. She was there only once, never to return, but that day, it changed her. She's scared. All those agents can be strong, but Kubei is terrified of Empyrean Lords as they hold a higher power.

"Aion is _not_ dead. I can assure you that."

"Look again at the Tower. It's broken, it's shattered into million pieces. The Aether is draining away, both you and I know it. Why is it so hard to admit this?" She stands on the defensive, realizing that this could become a heated argument.

"Atreia's destruction was prevented by Lady Siel herself. She froze it all in time, so we could live." Kaisinel interlaces his fingers together, staring at the woman.

"So, I am right. Maybe not fully, but the pieces don't add up, my Lord. She froze the destruction but it didn't save the fallen God."

Kaisinel bites his bottom lip, eyes squinting a little as he observed the woman. "I understand you're facing an inner spiritual battle with yourself and therefore question Aion's existence. That's perfectly normal."

"Maybe Aion is not a god, but an idea," she sighs, "maybe we're perceiving the idea of a god to be something quite far-fetched. A god can't be this foolish, to create a physical presence of his life, the core of his existence only to be demolished and wrecked by the Balaur. My Lord, you're technically a demi-god. Would you do something like that in a similar fashion?"

The Lord shakes his head in disagreement. He stands up and walks down the few steps that are there, approaching the woman with a calm demeanor. "I was created to fend off the enemy, that's very different. Aion is wise, perhaps he had planned to do this for a long time, for a purpose."

"What?" Kubei blinks in disbelief. That's so questionable, so dubious. "Why would Aion allow his own people to fight? Why fight the Asmodians if we're the same as they are, just with different skin color and personality? Why allow all of this evil, all this slaughtering, this disgusting gore, murder, violence," Kubei trails off, her breathing becoming heavier. The anger waking deep within, she cannot accept something like that. "We might as well kill ourselves and call it a day." She seethes, gritting her teeth.

He was not aware someone could be facing such existential issues within oneself. This left Kaisinel practically speechless. "Kubei," he starts off after a long pause, placing his hands on her shoulders, "maybe you're overthinking too much in regard to this matter. People have issues too, but one shouldn't allow something like this to stop us from moving on."

She feels a bit strange all of sudden, an odd flow of energy surging through. Is this Aether? Kubei watches Kaisinel smile in response. All this stress, anger, anxiety, is vanishing away like rain and drained away by the storm. Is this his doing? She isn't certain whether to give in or fight this back, nonetheless, her heart feels lighter all of sudden. Kubei's expression shifts to a more peaceful reaction, her mood changes alongside. Fighting to regain her senses back, the woman takes a grip on her Lord's fabric and tugs on it for her dear life. Whatever is going on is not something she's ever witnessed beforehand. It's a numb sensation, quite dazing and yet warming.

"If Aion were dead, you would know." The man replies with a soft tone, soon retrieving back his hands. Seems the lass struggles to keep herself on her feet, but he's certain this can give him more time. Not the type to get into arguments with Daevas. He will provide answers, but people can't expect him to answer everything in one go. These people need to find the answers on their own. That's the whole purpose of life, to explore, to enjoy and to live it, even if war is rampant all around. "It's time for you to go. It's late, you need to rest."

She nods, a tad iffy. Kubei places her hand over her forehead, feeling the warmth collide with the cold sensation of her palm. What just happened? The surroundings are a bit blurry, foggy too. Perhaps Kaisinel is right, maybe it's time to go. Hasn't she bothered him enough? "My apologies," she trails off, sighing. She wishes she could have gotten another chance to ask other questions, but this just went out of control. Nodding, the lass attempts to bow down but that turns out to be quite the challenge. Moreover, she does what she can before trekking out towards the main entrance. ' _Such an odd sensation,_ ' she thinks to herself, shaking the head a little. Kubei takes a last glance towards Kaisinel who's yet standing there, watching her leave. ' _Maybe he does mean well, and I'm causing such an uproar._ '

There she is, sitting on a bench. Her head is throbbing from pain, pounding alongside the heartbeat. This whole situation happened so fast, she hasn't gotten the chance to ask for more answers. Why did Kaisinel do this? Getting so close, Kubei couldn't shake this feeling off. This will probably keep her awake for the next couple of nights, but she can't complain. Feeling the closeness of someone satiates her dying heart, the need for care, love, and attention. In that short span of time, the Lord has managed to give all of that with a simple touch. Indeed, she has underestimated the power of an Empyrean Lord. They can do so much more, it's chilling to think what else can they do.

Gazing towards the sky, the night is somehow prettier when seen from higher places like Sanctum. There it is, the Tower of Eternity. Aion's presence. She's being reassured he's alive, yet she scowls at this thought. These questions remain, looping over and over again until she becomes sick in the stomach and exhausted from thinking.

' _Where are you?_ ' Kubei questions herself, frowning. Would Aion even hear her thoughts? Would he bother himself with yet another Daeva? Somehow thinking that God could be just a puppet pangs her heart with utmost grief and sadness.

Dreams die quick, and hopes follow right after.


End file.
